


I Won’t Say I’m In Love

by nah_nah



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Hercules Disney version, I can’t believe no ones done this yet, Lee Donghyuck as Meg, M/M, Mark Lee as Hercules, fluff with adventure, hercules au, it fits so well, kind of a mess, markchan, markhyuck, markhyuck is too iconic to be ignored, my percy jackson/greek mythology itch had to be scratched
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16062503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nah_nah/pseuds/nah_nah
Summary: Mark Lee always knew he had had some sort of rotten luck when it came to fate. As a newly-trained demigod rapidly thrown into the godly world, Mark knows finding his ultimate weakness is inevitable. He just doesn’t realize it comes in the form of a boy with golden skin and a tongue sharper than tempered bronze.(The markhyuck Hercules au no one knew they needed [because I sure didn’t])





	1. Chapter 1

Mark was sure that nothing could stop him. 

Ever since he was small, he knew that there was something different about himself. And not in the cheesy, “you can do anything” way his mom had always told him. Maybe it was the fact that he had accidentally broken down the door of his room while studying, or the fact that he had carried an entire cow under his arm, or maybe it was the lingering memory of a snake somehow being in his baby cradle, but Mark knew that he wasn’t like the others.

And how right he had been.

In the span of a few months, Mark had been transformed from the Sheepherder’s skinny, clumsy son to a handsome, buff, charismatic demigod (Who occasionally tripped over his feet, but Phil had told him it gave him character, and that grumpy old goat-dude was no Demeter when it came to compliments).

Well, technically he didn’t become a demigod per say, he already was one. And not only that, but a demigod who’s father was Zeus. The Zeus. As in ruler of the sky and the Gods Zeus. And now Mark suddenly has a flying horse-bird named Pegasus and washboard abs. And a quest. 

Right. The quest.

The quest to become a worthy hero, to reclaim his place with his father and mother on mount Olympus, had become his ultimate drive to push through the pain, to go the full distance. And Mark felt unstoppable. He felt as if Hades himself couldn’t even touch him. Mark had trained for months with Phil on combat, strategy, stealth, history, even a little bit of foreign language (not that he expected the early Indo-European-Latin phrases to come in handy), so much so that defeating the water guardian was a cake walk (baklava walk?). And despite his lack of actual experience, Mark was pretty damn sure he was invincible.

That is, until he’d met Donghyuck.

Now, Mark found himself standing at the edge of the Thebes river, still a little light-headed from his battle, staring at the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. Mark was in awe. If the goddess of love and the god of the sun had a child, this would be it. And maybe it was due to the fatigue, but Mark felt the urge to fall to his knees at the sight.

Mark knew Phil would surely give him a lecture on how easily he’d become distracted, but to be fair, the only reason why Mark hadn’t noticed this profound beauty before was the fact that he was so focused on the quest. Defeat Nessus, save the damsel (used loosely here, but this boy really was a pretty one), and get his name out as the Next Big Hero. Mark had only time to glance at the other boy while wrestling with that pervy water guardian, and even then Mark hadn’t had the time to get a good look.

Now, as the other boy was lazily splashing water on his tan skin, Mark had an opportunity to stare. He was unlike anyone Mark had seen in town. He was dressed in a loose lilac tunic and rich burgundy pants with bronze clasps that draped far too well over his body. He had reddish-brown hair like the pollen of a Crocus flower, with a thin strip of bronze and purple cloth tied around to keep it out of his glassy eyes. Freckles and moles dusted across his face like Athenian constellations. Even with the corners of his mouth bent into a pout, Mark couldn’t help but notice the boy’s full lips.

“Why not make a carving. It’ll last longer.” The boy drawls, without even glancing up at Mark. Mark could only gape at him, as the boy turns back around to face him, hand on hip. “Thanks for saving me, I guess. I mean I had it alright until you insisted on being Mr. Hero.”

“Well, when I found you he had you tied by the wrists while you essentially tried to threaten your way out. So you’re welcome.” Mark says, his voice coming out embarrassingly squeaky despite his cocky words. It didn’t matter how many pull-ups he can do in under a minute, Mark supposed he’d always be awkward. But the boy only laughs and takes a step closer at his antics, to Mark’s relief.

“So Brawn-Boy has a brain, too. Impressive.” The boy says playfully, and Mark swears his smile was more blinding than Apollo himself. “The name’s Donghyuck. My friends call me Hyuck, well at least they would if I had any friends.”

“Well, Hyuck, it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Mark. And you’re welcome.”  
Mark says, as he reaches out a hand to Donghyuck just as Phil had taught him. Slight bow, hand outstretched in formal greeting, smile charmingly (but not like that Narcissus guy, he’s a little much). However, despite Mark’s embarrassing amount of effort, Donghyuck merely chuckles again, coyly brushing a shoulder past the demigod and completely ignoring the hand altogether. 

There’s a brief flash of confusion and panic in Mark’s head before he suddenly feels a warm pressure on his cheek. It isn’t until Donghyuck is already halfway down the river that Mark fully registers that the boy had kissed him. He stands frozen by the river bank, dumbfoundedly watching as Donghyuck walks away, hips swaying like the limbs of a young olive tree. And just before he slips away into the trees, the sun-kissed boy turns back to Mark and sends an lazy salute in departure. 

“It was a real treat to meet you, Markie. Hopefully I won’t have to see you soon.” Donghyuck calls back, his voice as clear and sweet as Pan’s windpipes. Before Mark can catch his breath, Donghyuck is gone.

Somewhere at the peak of Mount Olympus, Aphrodite sits perched upon a cushion in a fit of laughter. Zeus is not so amused, but what’s done is done with the goddess of love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghyuck might put on a confident and fearless facade, but when it comes down to the wire he has no more power than a soul in the Fields of Mourning.

As Donghyuck slipped through the thick brush, he couldn’t help but think that that passive aggressive flying baby Cupid had it out for him. 

Donghyuck knew he had a problem. He trusted too easily, fell too hard, took it too far. Love was not his forte, and no matter how many times he’d been hurt he had always fallen again and again until one day when it had gone too far. What could he say? Selling his soul to Mr. God-of-Having-His-Toga-Shoved-Up-His-Ass (and Death), Hades pretty much cut off Donghyuck’s once-steady supply of suitors. Now Donghyuck was left to do that bitter Death-Breath’s bidding and would never have another opportunity to love again. But at the end of Apollo’s Chariot, Donghyuck supposed it was better for him. His days of love might have been over, but his days of heartbreak diminished as well.

Or so he’d thought.

Now that brawn-boy hero Mark really threw Donghyuck off for a curve. Everything about Mark screamed more trouble than Pandora’s box, from his impossibly chiseled jawline right down to his Athenian sandals. Even his shy smiles and less-than-smooth conversation skills made Donghyuck feel weak in his knees. Everything about him was just so… hero. And a hero was really the last thing he needed.

What Donghyuck needed was his freedom. What he needed was “All of Eternity” to be scratched off the contract he’d signed with Hades all those years ago. What he needed was his stupid seventeen year old self to see that a stupid boy wasn’t worth it. That they never are. That they never would be. 

And he was given his chance to slowly, but surely, work off his ‘debt’. Donghyuck had been given one simple task (as that asshat Hades liked to remind him). One short, small, simple task and he had butched it to Tartarus. But could he be blamed? That water guardian was a real creep. Hyuck had seen some pretty bad pick up lines, but trading a spot in the Uprising for marriage had to have been the worst. Really, did that Nessus dude seriously think Donghyuck wanted to spend the rest of eternity stuck in a dirty swamp outside of Thebes?

Thebes. That’s probably where Brawn-Boy Mark had wandered off to, being a big hero and all. He was probably there already, flexing his tree-trunk biceps for a crowd of adoring maidens. Hyuck had only been the first victim Mark would come across. Once he gets used to it, he'd surely forget Hyuck even existed. Although he told himself that this had to be the predetermined end-game, jealousy still rang through his chest like a Pythagoras gong, loud and persistent and dreadfully familiar.

When Donghyuck decided that he had walked far enough into the woods, he stopped to lean against the trunk of a nearby tree. Though he could hear the little disgruntled hmmph of the nymph whose tree it belonged to, Donghyuck ignored her and rested the back of his head on the bark. He stared up at the darkening sky, up to where those self-important, high-and-mighty gods were probably lounging around, oblivious of mortal problems. When would he learn? He thought to himself. 

Hero’s like that only bring trouble where they go.

—/-

“He’s somewhere in Thebes. Find him and lead him the the old arena, where we’ll be waiting to meet him.” 

Donghyuck couldn’t help but shudder again as the words replayed in his mind. Despite the dry, hot sun beating down on him and the stuffy hustle-and-bustle of the town, he shivered a little. The fire in Hades’ eyes when he found out Donghyuck had met Mark was unlike anything he’d seen before. His usual blue flames had glowed almost purple, and his shark-like teeth seemed to elongate in two rows of fangs. Donghyuck had seen Hades transform for a kill; Hades wasn’t exactly the most peaceful god on (or more accurately, below) Mount Olympus. But this reaction was different than those. In those scenarios, Hades had a clear shot, a sure kill. But Mark’s very existence seemed to put him in edge, like a cornered animal who bares its fangs at a predator; Hades was scared.

But apparently not scared enough to back away completely. Of course not. As if Hades wasn’t as stubborn as a mule. But Mark had struck some sort of fear in the god. So much so that Hades didn’t even want to get physically involved, that he had become apprehensive enough to stay back and watch a fight rather than take him head-on. The young hero had instilled fear in the God of Death. It was a sliver of hope, barely thicker than a piece of straw, but at this point Donghyuck was ready to take anything the Fates had to give him. 

He just prayed to Zeus that Mark was ready too. 

“Then we’ll see what that demigod is truly made of.” 

—/-

“Help! Help! Someone please send for help!” Donghyuck cried, frantically rushing through the crowded marketplace, grabbing onto people’s clothing, their bags, and screaming at the top of his lungs. Donghyuck’s face was covered with sweat and a thin layer of dirt, his copper hair a mussed up mess as though he’d been running frantically for hours. His voice cracked with urgency, laced with panic and concern. It wasn’t the first time Donghyuck had played bait, and it didn’t take long for his desired fish to bite. 

“Donghyuck? Is that- what happened?” Mark had rushed over from Hades knows where in all his bronze-clad glory, stopping to face Donghyuck. His pitch-black hair resembled that of the river Styx, and paired with his dark, glossy eyes he was easily the most unusual (and absolute gorgeous) sight in Greece. The direct sunlight made his strong jawline and cheekbones look even sharper, and Hyuck felt the urge to look away. His broad chest and shoulders seemed to contradict the look of soft concern in Mark’s eyes. He gripped onto Mark’s biceps (good gods, focus Donghyuck, get a grip!) and stared up at him through his dark lashes.

“M-Mark? Oh thank Zeus! T-two boys. They were playing in the old arena when a bunch of rocks fell over them. They’re t-trapped right now. No chariot c-could possibly lift the boulders-“

“Don’t worry. I can help them,” Mark said, without any hesitation in his voice. Before Donghyuck to say anything else, Mark had tugged him toward where his flying horse (because apparently flying horses were a thing now) and some goat-man had been buying apples. Mark quickly said something to the goat-man (appallingly fast for a guy who normally trips over his words), and before he knew it Donghyuck had been hoisted onto the horse (bird? Thing?). Suddenly they were soaring through the air, and Donghyuck was left to hold on to the only thing he could; Mark. 

Donghyuck wrapped his arms around Mark’s torso, probably squeezing the poor guy’s ribs together under that layer of muscle (oh my gods-), but if Mark minded he didn’t voice it. Donghyuck’s fear of heights was never really an issue, being servant to the god of the underworld, but now the old fear had risen into his chest and was ready to fall into his stomach any minute, his brain anticipating a fall any moment. Donghyuck squeezed tighter and he swore he could feel Mark’s warm body leaning back into his touch. 

Not that Donghyuck cared.

When they finally touched the ground after a millennia Mark was already on the dirt, running towards the stone arena and a part of Donghyuck longed to yell after him, to warn him of the impending doom. But he didn’t.

Instead Donghyuck clamored off the horse-bird (rather, the horse-bird has bucked him off as soon as Mark took off) and did exactly what he’d been instructed. He dizzily trudged up the dirt path to the cliff, the one overlooking the arena covered by some all-too-convenient foliage 

The god of death was already there, sitting with his skeletal hands clasped in sick anticipation for the ‘show’ to start. Donghyuck wanted to throw up. That awkward, clumsy, annoyingly adorable Mark didn’t even stand a chance. He had just led this boy, this young demigod to his doom before he could even get the chance to be a hero. But he wasn’t just one of Donghyuck’s stupid crushes. Mark was his last chance of freedom, his last shred of hope. He wanted to run back to the arena and warn Mark, he wanted to go to the secret chamber where Hades was hiding that monstrous Hydra and kill it himself, he wanted to crush those two little demon slaves (Pain and Panic) under a colosseum for mocking Mark. Most of all he wanted to push Hades off the cliff and have the satisfaction of knowing that he won’t come back afterwards. But Donghyuck didn’t do any of these things.

Instead he took his place next to Hades’ granite throne like the good little servant he had to be, and silently prayed to the gods that Mark wouldn’t be angry at him when they met again in the underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is up, yay! A lot of this was setting up some hyuck background, but I promise more will be revealed later. I also now have a solidified layout for the story, so I can map out what I’m thinking. Thank you so much for the support I got on the first chapter, I had no idea what to expect and I’m super flattered and surprised by it! It’s given me a new motivation to continue writing. Also thx to my bb gorl @ kenaitodoroki for being my editor and for encouraging me despite putting off her duties to hang with her not-boyfriend ;)
> 
> Lemme hear your responses on the chapter and what y’all think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark's popularity begins to soar, and for the first time he's beginning to feel like a real hero, but he can't seem to focus on anything other than the sun-kissed boy adorned in purple.

“Mark. Mark. Hey, hey stay with me, kid. Open your eyes, will you?” 

Mark was lying on the ground with his back pressed against the icy granite, vaguely aware of the now-crowded arena chanting something that sounded like his name. Phil was sitting near him, bleating nervously and hovering over him with a look of concern but also… pride? Mark tried to remember what happened but found himself too concentrated on his Tartarus-sized headache and the steady in-out of his breathing. Mark winced as he turned his head to the side, pressing a cheek to the stone, and found his gaze focusing in on the cloudy eye of a dead beast that had fallen next to him. The Hydra.

Memories flooded back to him, of the battle against the fire-breathing, head-sprouting beast, of the alleged ‘little boys’ trapped under rocks, and of Hyuck mysteriously disappearing right before the fight.

It was all too much to process before his aching body was suddenly hoisted upon the shoulders of random townspeople rushing from the stands with gleeful cries. Mark had just enough energy to pull the shredded remains of his toga over himself and flash a tired smile at the mob. Phil’s scratchy protests of “Hey, be careful it was his first big battle!” and “The kid might puke, get yourselves out of the splash-zone!” cut through the noise like a siren. The rest was a messy blur of shouts and hugs and questions and wine before it all went black. 

—/-

It was true, what the rumors had said about him. Mark and transformed from ‘Zero to Hero’ quite literally overnight. After his first battle against the Hydra, scribes of every neighboring town flocked the mansion he, Phil, and Pegasus bought that next week. The weekly stone tablets featured an almost daily update of how steady his biceps were growing and other vitally important news. Artists were already clamoring for a chance to sketch or paint him for mosaics and pottery, and by the third month, there wasn’t a garden in Athens that didn’t have a carving or statue of him. 

And probably the most problematic, fangirls traveled by packs swarming the gates of his house, eager to catch a glimpse of his rumored ‘styxian night hair’ as he had once seen in an article. 

On top of this new celebrity lifestyle routine, Mark found himself running into new monsters and creatures almost every other day. It was like cutting the head of a Hydra; as soon as one went down two more seemed to appear. Mark would be walking through the weekend market and suddenly find minotaur charge it’s massive hoove right towards him. Or he’d take Pegasus for a fly and find himself being chased by a flock of vehemently rabid Stymphalian birds. Once, he and Phil had gone to rowing to work out his biceps when a gigantic sea serpent had risen from its depths and launched itself onto the boat. The list stretched longer than the depths of the Alcyonian Lake, despite Mark’s golden-boy winning streak. His near-loss with the Hydra had proven to have been merely a beginner’s fluke. As Phil liked to remind him and the unrelenting public, “The Lyre has to be tuned and polished before even Apollo can play it. And this kid doesn’t even know how to play the Lyre!” 

Despite the danger and, quite frankly the inconvenience, these constant attacks admittedly worked wonders for Mark’s popularity and fame. With each new victory, he earned more and more money. Not that it really mattered in the slightest to his ultimate end goal, but Mark was able to pay for all of his adoptive parents’ living costs four times over. 

The public never seemed to grow bored of reading recounts of battles won in the weekly stone tablets or watching them be dramatically performed via theater. When traveling outside of Athens Mark often found himself in the seat of honor to watch these wildly inaccurate ‘retellings’ of his skirmishes with beasts. Nevertheless, he would clap and smile in good-nature. 

That was another factor towards his popularity. Not only was Mark’s sculpted physique a supposed ‘Gift from the Gods’ (quoted from the gossip section of The Oracle daily tablet) but he was also a humble and well-mannered gentleman. All other previous heroes acted as such; courageous, kind, and charismatic. But they also tended to come off as brash, outspoken, and sometimes ‘too perfect’. Mark, however, with his shy smiles, frequent speech-stumbles, and his habit of fiddling with his brass toga clasps, possessed something the others didn’t; character. 

And the public took it in like a drunk during the Festival of Dionysus. Everyone found him relatable yet prized. Mysterious but familiar. He could be an underdog grown from a small countryside town, bullied by other townspeople, or he could be the untouchable legend who’s never once lost to a beast. 

And yet in all this talk of his personality and character, Mark never felt quite fit for the part, even when it had been molded and specifically tailored for him. He often wondered whether Perseus or Theseus or Achilles ever felt like this, uncomfortable in their own skin. He wondered if they ever felt scared or weak, if they ever kept secrets. No matter how pushy the press were, there were always secrets Mark kept just for himself. 

Like that alluring boy in purple he’d met by the river, who had brought him his first taste of victory and fame. Mark could still see the swirling flecks of gold in the Donghyuck’s eyes that had shone in the river’s afternoon reflection, the delicate curls of his red-copper hair against his golden glowing skin, the graceful sway of limbs and hips as he walked deeper into the woods. The sound of the boy’s laughter played back in his head like music, like the clear and sweet notes of a panpipe. Even now, there was no one who had ever said his name the way Donghyuck had. Hearing it come from his lips made it sound like the most important thing in the land of the living. Mark could still feel the boy’s arms wrapped tightly around his middle, chin hooked over his shoulder, the warm ghost of a breath on Mark’s cheek still there like mist. Mark swore that this boy was magic. 

Phil swore that Mark was a fool.

Still, every night when Mark prayed to the gods and to his father Zeus he would ask for strength, confidence, patience, and success. But he would also whisper, so quiet that to any onlooker he was merely mouthing the words to a silent chant, Mark would also ask to meet Donghyuck again. Because in the few times they had been together, Mark had never felt more like himself. 

With all his newfound success and fame, there was no time for Mark to thoroughly look for Donghyuck or try to find his whereabouts except for the occasional glance into the crowd. He knew he couldn’t ask Phil for help, because girls would only be a distraction, another thing to add on top of his buffet-sized plate. And yet, any flash of purple or red in the crowd set Mark on edge, filling him with a surge of adrenaline the size of a cyclops. Mark’s hope of finding the boy had just started to run out when Donghyuck had found him. 

—/-

Mark was hiding inside a large wardrobe, as he had just escaped his third fangirl-attack of the week when he was greeted with a familiar lazy salute. The doors swung open dramatically to reveal the all-too-familiar figure of the boy Mark had been thinking of for months. Donghyuck flashed an amused smirk at Mark’s disheveled state, like finding him like this was a common occurrence or something. Mark could feel his insides twist, a feeling he hadn't felt since the first time Donghyuck had kissed him so gently on the cheek. Mark blushed hotly.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much, Brawn Boy. Though I hear you’re not exactly dying of boredom nowadays. You snap those demigod fingers of yours and anything you could ever want appears on a bronze platter, right?”

Mark knew he should say something back. Something smooth like, ‘I could get anything I want, but you.’ But instead, he awkwardly stumbled out of the closet, nearly tripping over his newly-tailored sandals. Then, after somewhat regaining his composure he said, “I did miss you. I-I’m really glad to see you, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck’s gaze softened a little, his lips uncurling from its smirk to part slightly in awe. This, Mark supposed, was the charming ‘Mark Effect’ he had become so famous of possessing. But still, he had only wanted that charm to work on one person, and he was standing right in front of him. 

Mark smiled a little too brightly at Donghyuck, probably looking like a lovesick fool but somehow he didn’t care. Donghyuck would poke fun at him anyway, so what was the point of hiding it? Besides, Donghyuck had come back, so surely he felt the same way.

“All those months of fame has turned you into a soft little fig, hasn’t it?” Hyuck says, swaying closer to him and touching a teasing finger to the tip of Mark’s nose. “How about you take a break from playing Hero for a day. You and I can make a day out of it.”

“I don’t know… I mean Phil said I have a pretty packed schedule today and-”

“C’mon Mark, don’t be a chariot-in-the-mud, live a little. Take a relax day, unwind. One cheat day couldn’t hurt, can it? Besides,” Donghyuck stepped closer to Mark, close to the point where the only thing Mark could see were the flecks of gold in the boy’s eyes under dark lashes. Mark could feel Donghyuck trace slow circles on his bicep, and he decided there and then that his father had finally answered his wish. “I really want to get to know the real you a little better.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening wandering the streets of Athens, something Mark never had the time or leisure to do. Walking with Donghyuck on his arm in public caused a considerably large stir among the townspeople, but they all graciously gave the pair some needed space. They dined at a nice restaurant and ended up eating for free, courtesy of the owner and chef himself. They visited the few gardens and museums that weren’t fully dedicated to Mark’s endeavors and bought little trinkets and flowers from street vendors. They even attended a play, the first one Mark had seen that was not depicting one of his inaccurate battles. It was like taking a breath of fresh air after not even realizing you’ve been holding it in. 

Or rather, Donghyuck was like a breath of fresh air. 

There was something about him, the way he looked at Mark, the way he touched his arm lightly or the way he’d say his name, that would make all of Mark’s stresses about reuniting with his parents on Mount Olympus disappear. The pain of longing to see his family subsided to a dull ache with Donghyuck, and he found it easier to speak about his worries. 

They were sitting in a beautiful flower and sculpture garden dedicated to the Nine Muses. Apollo’s golden chariot had only just disappeared beneath the thin horizon, casting Donghyuck in a pinky-blue light that complimented his purple tunic. The boy’s eyes still sparkled like constellations and Mark wondered how a boy could look like both the day and night sky all at once. He could just sit there and stare for hours, but instead, he clears his throat somewhat nervously. 

“I never knew playing hooky could be so fun. Today was absolutely amazing.” Mark lets out a sigh of content. “You are absolutely amazing.”

Donghyuck gazed up at him through his lashes in surprise and for the first time, he looked completely speechless. His eyes softened, and they held this… longing that felt so intense it was impossible to look away. 

Then the boy’s eyes grew sad, as though he was remembering a bitter something from his past until his eyes had shifted from sad to something inscrutable. Donghyuck’s eyebrows knitted together, and he almost looked sick. Mark grew concerned at the sudden mood change, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. 

“Hyuck? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so upfront about my feelings. It’s just that,” Mark could hear the sharp intake of breath from in front of him, but he just needed to tell him. “I feel less alone when I’m with you. You don’t make me feel like an outsider or like I’m any better or worse than anyone else. You make me happy, even when you’re sassy or sarcastic or whatever. I think it’s cute. Everything about you is so cute, and beautiful, and-”

“You might think that now, but you’ll get over it eventually.” Donghyuck’s voice cracks like porcelain as he drops his gaze to granite stone path in front of them. The, he added, “They always do, eventually.”

“Hyuck what are you talking about?”

“Playing hard to get doesn’t last forever. Flirty lines and winks aren’t enough to make someone stay because they’re more interested in the chase than the actual prize. Once boys get what they want,” Donghyuck’s voice dropped to a bitter note, and Mark saw the boy’s hand curl into a fist. “they leave.”

Mark didn’t even miss a beat. How could anyone mistreat someone as amazing as the boy in front of him? How could anyone grow tired of his voice or his eyes or his laugh? Mark reached over and took Donghyuck’s hand in his own. With the other, Mark brought it to Donghyuck’s chin and lifted it so that their eyes met, and for the thousandth time that day he was convinced that the boy was Aphrodite on Earth. 

“I don’t know who hurt you in the past, but they must have been blind and wrong to do that. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I swear to Zeus that I would never get tired of seeing you’re beautiful face.” Mark paused, as he considered his next words carefully for fear that he might upset Donghyuck further. “D-do you think I’m like all the others?”

“I-” The other boy started, before cutting himself off. When he started again his tone was more even. “Of course not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve gotten so used to pushing others away I guess I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to trust someone.”

“Donghyuck,” Mark said seriously. “I would never hurt you.”

The other boy smiled, but his moonlit face still held traces of melancholy, like a tapestry framed by the copper-red of his hair. His eyes looked so glassy and fragile that they might have shattered like ice at any moment. Instead, they melted. 

“I know you wouldn’t. And I lov-like that about you.”

The two of them blushed and smiled for what seemed like ages worth of a comfortable, warm silence before Mark trusted himself to begin the conversation again.

“I don’t think I can remember a time where I had this much fun.”

“I agree. I’m really glad you took a little day off. You seem a little stressed.” Donghyuck replied, his face twisting into a concerned expression. “Is… is everything alright? Is anything bothering you, like a weak spot or something?” 

There was something different in Donghyuck’s expression, something unreadable. More on guard and careful. But Mark didn’t care. Donghyuck was Donghyuck, and the truth was that there was something that had been bothering him.

“Yeah… A few days ago I went to visit my father’s temple. He came to me and we spoke for a bit. I told him about my fame and success, about my winning streak and popularity in Greece. But, he told me that-that being famous wasn’t enough to get me back to Mount. Olympus and that I was still missing something. Can you believe that?! He said I needed to, I don’t know, look inside myself for something. But I just can’t shake the feeling that maybe all this is for nothing… and that I’ll just never do enough to make it.” Mark confessed to the boy. Donghyuck reached to take Mark’s hand into his own, gently tracing those same slow circles onto his palm. The boy considered this for a moment, his eyebrows twisting in thought, before speaking in that same cautious tone.

“Perhaps… have you ever thought that maybe you shouldn’t go back to Mount Olympus? Maybe your true strengths and your true purpose lie here in the mortal world with your friends… with me.”

Mark opened his mouth, whether to disagree or agree he isn’t even sure, but before he can say anything the moment was broken by the swoosh of feathers and clatter of hooves as Pegasus landed in front of them carrying an extremely disheveled and unpleasant-looking Phil. After a ten-minute long lecture, Mark was practically dragged by the ear away from the bench. 

But before allowing himself to be whisked away, Mark swiftly plucked a white flower from a nearby bush and tucked it behind Donhyuck’s ear. The white contrasted so brightly against the tan of his skin and hair that it almost illuminated his features. Mark leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the other boy’s cheek. He zeroed in on a mole just underneath the boy’s eye and kissed that too.

Finally, with a whispered thank you, Mark swings a leg over Pegasus and rides off into the night, the image of Donghyuck’s shy grin still burning in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm back! Deadass wrote this in three hours and obliterated my writer's block like a wrecking ball. I'm excited for the next chapter though, it;s gonna be icONIC.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This is my first fic ever so please don’t hesitate to send in any critiques or comments, because I’d absolutely love to hear from you! I hope you enjoyed and hope to see y’all in the next chapter.


End file.
